


This Was Almost A Good Day

by bookaddict209



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 08:02:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23847868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookaddict209/pseuds/bookaddict209
Summary: My submission for my giftee @LBIGreyhound13! I hope you like it. It took an oddly long time for me to get inspired on this one.I went with prompt #3, car accident
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 61
Collections: The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange





	This Was Almost A Good Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LBIGreyhound13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LBIGreyhound13/gifts).



> My submission for my giftee @LBIGreyhound13! I hope you like it. It took an oddly long time for me to get inspired on this one.  
> I went with prompt #3, car accident

Here’s how to ruin a Saturday morning.

Let’s break it down into steps:

Step 1 - start by finding a kid with spider powers and an unshakable moral foundation and give him a multimillion dollar super suit. People will tell you later this was not the greatest move. After the kid gets home and tries to go too hard too fast, you try to take it back, but it becomes pretty obvious that this kid needs the suit or he’s going to die in a fireball. Besides, he helped you out, and you like him a little bit. So you give it back, and this time you decide you’re going to be keeping a much closer eye on him. You offer him a spot on the team, and after he shocks the hell out of you by turning you down, start drafting preliminary ideas on how you can keep closer tabs on this kid.

Step 2 - that same day, field an angry phone call from the kid’s aunt who walked in on said kid in said super suit. You don’t really manage to get a word in edgewise as this woman goes through all five stages of grief on the phone with you. By the end of the phone call the only thing you’ve managed to do is meekly say that you’d like to teach him to be safe, and after a moment’s pause you get a “you had _better_ ,” hissed in your ear before the call is disconnected. You’re a little scared, so you text the kid and tell him that he needs to come over this weekend so they can start training him.

Step 3 - neglect to send Happy to pick the kid up to bring him to the compound. Now this one isn’t really your fault - you did offer, the day before in a text thread, but the kid turned you down and said he’d ride the subway. You mentioned to him that the subway line ended well before the compound, but after a minute more of texting you understand that he just wants to swing over. You should have put your foot down, you know you should have, but you were amused. Surely if the kid had managed to bring down a plane full of weapons without hurting anyone, he can manage a 30 minute swing to the compound.

And finally step 4 - forget exactly how deep that self-sacrificing thing goes with this kid.

Tony follows these steps and finds that he really should have seen some of this coming.

—

FRIDAY lets him know before Peter’s aunt does. FRIDAY’s overhead speakers let out a soft but urgent beep, grabbing Tony’s attention from his coffee. With no further prompting, a set of holographic statistics appear in his 3D work field. He recognizes that they’re coming from Peter’s suit, but he can’t make sense of what they’re saying to him. Internal bleeding, blunt force trauma to the head, bones in shards, a heart rate that is rapidly dropping - but wasn’t Peter just on his way to the compound? What the hell could he get caught up in that would cause all that?

“You have a call coming in on your phone,” FRIDAY says. “From Peter’s aunt.”

Tony hasn’t the faintest idea where his phone is, and FRIDAY seems to know that, because without his prompting the phone is answered and May’s voice comes from above him.

“Tony,” she says, and Tony can hear the raw red of panic in her voice.

“I see it,” he tells her. “It just popped up on my screen. Where are you?”

“I’m at the scene. I’m filling in as part of the first response team.”

Tony swallows, finds he can’t. Tries again. “How bad is it?”

“He isn’t here,” she whispers.

Tony blinks and checks the holograms again. They’re steadily getting worse in a way that has Tony standing now. “He already got taken to the hospital?”

“No, he’s just not here. He wasn’t here when we showed up.”

Tony pauses. “How can you tell that he should be there?”

“Two cars, head-on collision. They each have a large dent in the hood in the same spot that looks like …like hands..and-and like-” She can’t finish. She doesn’t have to. Tony can imagine the Peter-shaped divot in both cars where Peter put himself between them so the cars would hit _him_ instead of each other.

“How is he not there if he - if he was -” Well shit. Tony can’t bring himself to say it either.

“I don’t know,” May whispers. “But can you - I mean I can’t - but I should -”

“I’ll find him,” Tony says. “You stay there. I’ll find him and I’ll take care of him.”

She goes quiet. “I still don’t trust you,” she finally says.

Tony swallows. “I know.”

They listen to each other breathe on the line for a moment longer before she gruffly says “prove me wrong, Stark,” and hangs up.

Tony takes a breath and puts his phone down. “Find him, FRIDAY.”

“Locating now,” she intones, dimming the lights on Tony’s work station and powering up the Iron Man suit in the corner. Tony lets the suit wrap around him and looks over the information on his HUD, searching for the tracking information from the secret trackers he installed after learning Peter couldn’t be trusted. The screen pings with the location and Tony takes off, arcing out through the window that opens whenever he gets into the suit. There is no inconspicuous way to shoot through the air as Iron Man, so he settles for being too fast to garner much more than passing attention. He hopes May sees the trail he leaves behind and feels somewhat comforted.

Tony finds him at his apartment, but on the roof instead of indoors. Tony lands on the roof and steps out of the suit in a frantic heap to find Peter laying flat against the rooftop. His mask is in his hands, palms over his eyes, and he’s making a small hiccuping grunt that sounds so pitiful Tony rushes straight for him.

“Peter,” he says, dropping down to his knees beside the kid. “Peter, I’m here.”

Peter pulls his hands away from his eyes and blinks at Tony. His face is red and tear tracks have cut through the grime on his cheeks, but he’s long since stopped crying. “Mr. Stark? H’w ‘re you here?”

“I came to find you,” Tony says, eyes roving over Peter’s body. “How bad is it?”

“’S fine,” Peter slurs, wiping his hands over his face. “Jus’ need a minute.”

Tony doesn’t love the idea of rolling his eyes at this kid who may or may not have a crushed midsection, but he _definitely_ grits his teeth. “Yeah, that tracks. Two cars plow into you and I get the scariest vital report I’ve ever seen in my life, but sure, you just ‘ _need a minute_ ’.”

Peter parts his fingers and eyes Tony curiously. “How’d you know? Suit rat me out?”

Now Tony glares. “Your aunt. She’s on the first response team today and got a little suspicious when she caught sight of two cars with the very distinct impression of _her nephews handprints embedded in the goddamn hood._ ” He didn’t know he was yelling until Peter winced away from him with a look of pain on his face.

“Sorry,” Tony says immediately. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t yell. Not until we get you checked out.”

“I can’t move anymore,” Peter says flatly.

“I’ll pick you up in the suit, it’ll be-”

“No, I mean I cannot be physically moved from this spot,” Peter says, voice edge with desperation screaming _please don’t touch me_. “How I managed to swing all the way over here is a mystery to me, but I promise you, I will not be conscious if you try to move me.”

Tony looks him over, tries not to be panicked over the definite depression in Peter’s middle, and takes a breath. “Kid, moving you is non-negotiable. You need a hospital.” He opens his mouth to ask if Peter thinks his aunt could possibly borrow the ambulance when he stumbles over his words because _fuck_ , something just clicked. “Is that why you bailed on the scene of the accident? So they wouldn’t take you to the hospital?”

There’s a half second of silence between the two of them. Peter blinks up at him, face pain-pinched and guilty, and Tony actually has to take a deep breath. Peter whimpers.

“I’m part spider,” Peter stutters. “My identity, you know, I mean, they’d be able to figure it out.”

“Okay,” Tony says. “Let’s pretend that any of that was a valid reason not to go to the hospital. What exactly was the plan once you hit the rooftop?”

 _Stop it_ , Tony snaps to himself. _Peter is injured and you’re screaming at him._

Peter wipes his hands over his face. “I didn’t know what else to _do_.”

“You call _me_.” Tony’s voice is deep and furious, and it makes them both flinch. Tony continues. “When you’re on the roof of your building and you’re too injured to move, you call me, dammit!”

Peter blinks up at him with wide eyes. “Wh…why?”

Tony’s blood freezes. His heartbeat, which he could taste on his tongue, beats once and goes still. “What?”

Peter’s face scrunches up. “Why would I call you?”

It’s like being _hit_ , the force of Tony’s shock. Why? Why?? “Why would you…kid, you -” Tony can’t even think. All he can sense is the taste of failure hot on the end of his tongue, the sharp startling realization that this kid was going to internally bleed to death on the hot roof of his apartment building instead of reaching out for help because he didn’t think he could call Tony.

There’s something there, something Tony isn’t ready to address that involves his own father’s irritation and the deep understanding that he would never be able to ask for help. Whatever it was it paid dividends - Peter isn’t even his kid and he already knows better than to trust Tony.

“I heal fast,” Peter mutters. His breath is starting to sound more difficult. “Didn’t want to..to bother you.”

And what reason would Peter have to think it was anything other than a bother? He and Happy haven’t exactly been subtle about how annoyed they’d been with Peter’s repeated calls and antics. And it can’t be denied that the phone calls began to become a bit much after the 80th one, but this is like…fuck, Tony doesn’t even know what to say about this. It’s only now that Tony realizes, despite what he told Peter when he gave him the suit, that Peter genuinely doesn’t know what the grey area looks like - either Peter tells them about every cat he sees during patrol or he dies on a roof in silence.

Tony hits a button on his watch and starts the process of requesting the fastest med-evac known to man to his location. He handpicks the nurses that will help them out for their discretion, not that it matters. He’s not going to let anyone see Peter’s face.

That done, he turns back to Peter, who he can tell is starting to fade into unconsciousness. “Try to stay with me,” Tony tells him. “Cavalry’s on the way, maybe three minutes out.”

“No hospital,” Peter bubbles.

“You’ll have whatever they think is necessary,” Tony says firmly, laying a hand on Peter’s arm. “I’ll deal with the rest of it.”

They sit in silence for a second before Tony gruffly says, “Just promise me you’ll call me next time.”

“Didn’t wann’ bo..botherooo.” Peter is almost completely down for the count.

Tony is quiet for a minute. He’s never been good at saying the heavy stuff, especially when he knows he should. But dammit, this is important. Tony unglues his tongue from the roof of his mouth and says, “you’re not a bother, Peter. If it has to be all or nothing, I’d rather have it all. Go back to telling me about your homework, and your friends, and the dogs you help rescue. I’ll only be bothered by the silence.”

“Oh. ‘Kay,” Peter says. His eyes have shut.

“I’m serious, Peter. If I go two days without hearing about your grades, there’ll be trouble.”

Tony is surprised by the sound of Peter’s rolling laugh, strained and breathless but entirely genuine. “’Sound like sucsh a _dad_ ,” he slurs.

A bit of wind whips around them and Tony looks up to see the med-evac, right on schedule. “Perhaps,” he says, looking down at Peter’s relaxed form. “But no one will ever believe you.”


End file.
